


Now That We're Dead

by VibrantHue



Series: And Awaaay We Go! [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged-Up Morty Smith, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Sex, Angst, Cannibalism, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Road Trips, Smut, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-05-30 20:11:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VibrantHue/pseuds/VibrantHue
Summary: Morty’s woken up in a lot of weird places throughout his life, but waking up in his own grave definitely takes the cake. To make matters worse, he thinks he turned into a zombie overnight. He eventually calls Rick for help, but when Rick shows up his portal gun breaks, trapping them miles from home.This is only the start of their problems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place 3 years after the first part in this series. You don't have to read it for this first chapter, but it should be read for context later on.

Morty woke up covered in a heavy, immobilizing darkness.

He’d had dreams like this before. Waking dreams, he’d heard them called. This one was by far the worst of them, as the darkness weighed him down so much he couldn’t open his eyes or scarcely breathe.

Usually, during rough nights he’d calm himself down quietly so he didn’t bother anyone, but that wasn’t happening tonight. He was more than ready to wake up his roommate this time. Though, when he tried calling for help the words got stuck in his throat and he started choking.

That’s when he tasted it–the acrid flavor of mud filling his mouth.

Morty’s body reacted before his mind could catch up–his hands scrambled every which way to shove the muck off of him. He had no idea where he was or why he was covered in mud, but he kept pushing and scrabbling until his fingers reached the cool air, which after a time was followed by his face, and then his chest until finally enough of him was above ground to sit upright.

Standing up was another task, as his sneakers were practically glued to the rainy sludge beneath him.

After a few difficult and tentative steps, he realized he couldn’t see anything since there was still mud coating his face. Noticing that his hands were caked with dirt, he instead tilted his face up towards the night sky. The heavy rain rinsed away some of the soil from his eyes, and he could finally see again.

What he saw when his vision adjusted were the dark outlines of trees surrounding him.

With no visible exit, he decided to walk in a random direction in the hopes that he’d inevitably find his way out.

As he moved, he could feel heavy clumps of mud cling awkwardly to his clothes. When he tried brushing some off, his palm grazed a lump in his pocket, and it occurred to him that he’d forgotten about his phone.

It was soaked when he took it out, but miraculously it was working.

The phone’s home screen flashed ‘1:37 AM,’ and below it were a few text messages waiting to be read–apparently some of his friends had been asking about his whereabouts.

He remembered then that he’d been at a freshmen party in his dorm building before he somehow landed in the forest. In the state that he was in, there was no way he could go back, not that he wanted to return anyway. Parties were never his scene, but he’d been holed up in his dorm for three straight days studying for his Biology final, and he had to get out. Now he wished he’d never left.

(Of course, he could’ve called Rick and asked him for homework help and potentially avoided the entire situation. That is, if he and Rick were still on speaking terms.)

Instead of showing up, he thought about calling his friends at the party instead, but there was no way they’d pick up this late considering how intoxicated they liked to get.

And then there was the issue of going back to his dorm. The area was pretty well-lit, and he wouldn’t pass the scrutiny of campus security and anyone else who happened to be hanging around. If he did make it through that, there was his roommate, who’d banned him from the dorm that night so he could fuck the TA from their Economics class.

Regardless of all of those problems, he knew would have to return to campus, and he knew someone that could help who was neither his roommate or a partying freshman. He recalled there was a girl he was friendly with in his Biology class who lived on his floor, and whose roommate happened to be out of town that night. He also knew she hadn’t gone to the party because the Biology final was the following morning, and she was the studious type.

Deciding then that she would be his best bet, he brought up her contact info, pushed past the nervous hesitation he often felt when he knew he was about to have an awkward conversation, and pressed ‘call.’

It rang a couple of times and then went to voicemail. It was on the second call that she picked up.

“Morty?” She asked with a tone of surprise.

“Amanda. H-Hey.” Morty said, sounding hoarse. He tried clearing his throat, but it was too dry and scratchy from the soil he’d swallowed earlier to make any difference.

“Why are you calling me so late? Did something happen at the party?”

“No–I mean, yeah, kind of. I don’t know how to explain it and it’s really fucked up. I’m not at school, and I just–I can’t go back to my dorm, can I crash at yours?“

There was a short pause then. Morty assumed she was quietly considering if she should let him stay over. While he waited for an answer, he kicked up some leaves off the ground and listened to them get caught in the wind. He felt a slight tinge of pain when he swung his leg out, which he shrugged off. Probably one of the side effects of being buried outside for a few hours, he figured.

“Sure, you can crash. As long as you get a ride, I don’t have a car. Oh, and some people from Bio are here studying, but we’re being quiet so you should be good.” She said finally.

“Oh, uh, yeah totally.” He replied quickly.

“Alright. I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can let yourself in. Bye Morty.” She said, then hung up.

He opened his phone’s GPS app. It would take him over half an hour to walk back to campus, which he weighed against the option of getting an Uber. He was nervous about attracting attention, so he decided to walk back.

Using his phone as a guide, he successfully made his way through the forest despite losing his way a few times and nearly smashing his phone against a tree trunk he’d overlooked while trekking through the darkness.

It was comforting to see at last a bright stretch of highway in front of him after staring into near total darkness for so long.

As he carried on towards his dorm, he happened to catch his reflection in a wide puddle by the road, and what he saw startled him. He looked worse than he’d imagined, nearly unrecognizable with all the dirt smeared on him. And there was another thing too, something about his complexion that wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t figure it out in the darkness, and his phone camera wasn’t helpful either.

There wasn’t much right now he could do to change his appearance, so he decided to put it out of his mind for now and continue walking. He’d probably scare the shit out of Amanda and her friends when he got to her dorm, but hopefully a good shower would fix that.

He’d convinced himself by now that whatever happened back in the woods must’ve been some freak accident. Maybe he’d strayed too far from campus at some point in the night and had some unlucky encounter.

It wasn’t the biggest stretch to believe–the university was on the edge of a high crime area, and they were constantly being warned to stay within the bounds of the campus. It would also explain the pain in his leg, as well as the stray aches he felt throughout his body–he looked and felt like he’d gotten into a fight.

The last possibility on his mind was anything space related or interdimensional. Stuff like that used to only happen when Rick was around. Unless his grandfather did it to spite him, which he doubted. He was the smartest man in the multiverse, he had better things to do. Morty knew that well enough.

Ultimately though, it didn’t matter at the moment what the reason was. All he wanted now was to take a shower and never have to think about tonight ever again.

The thought kept him going for the next half hour until he caught sight of his dorm.

As he came closer to the building, he noticed an officer from the campus police cornering a group of drunk students in front of the quad–he figured the freshmen party got busted. That was further evidenced by a string of teenagers stumbling away from the direction of Morty’s dorm building, while medical and police personnel rushed inside.

Realizing his stroke of luck then, he dashed across the quad and into the building, making it all the way to Amanda’s room without being noticed.

When he went inside, he saw Amanda and her friends were all sitting in a circle on the floor in the center of the room. There were stacks of flashcards, notebooks, and handouts spread around them on the floor. No one paid attention to him, as they were immersed in their studies.

“Hey.” Morty greeted, and it was apparently the wrong thing to say since it caught everyone’s attention.

“Hey–“ Amanda had started saying, but then they all looked up at him in unison, triggering looks of shock that made Morty regret having announced his entrance.

“Holy shit! What happened Morty?” Amanda questioned.

“Well, um–it’s not as bad as it looks. I–I just need a shower.” Morty said, sidestepping the group sitting on the floor and making his way to the bathroom.

“Seriously? There’s a bone sticking out of your leg!” She shouted, pointing at him.

He paused and looked down, noticing his pant leg was torn, revealing a section of fractured, exposed bone just as described.

“What?” Morty mumbled to himself in disbelief. Remarkably, he hadn’t noticed the injury at all beyond the slight pain he felt earlier.

“Amanda, I think we should get him to the medical center.” One of them said.

“No. He won’t make it.” Another chimed in. “He’s showing signs of severe blood loss. Plus, all the discoloration and bruising means he’s likely hiding other injuries, and he doesn’t feel it yet because his body’s in shock. He’s in really bad shape, and I’m calling him an ambulance. The hospital’s close anyway, they’ll get here pretty fast.”

Morty scoffed. “Geez, okay pre-med, I don’t need a diagnosis! I just need some sleep. I’ll–I’ll go to the medical center in the morning.”

But they all ignored him in favor of huddling around the classmate who was dailing the ambulance.

Being dismissed only served to frustrate Morty further. He was about to start arguing again when he happened to turn slightly and see himself in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall beside him. What he saw was obviously much clearer than the reflection he’d seen in the puddle in the street from before–he could examine every grizzly detail now.

Aside from the grime that he had yet to wash off, what stood out to him first was how extremely pallid he was. It was the gray kind of pale that’s only seen postmortem. On top of that, his skin felt thin and papery like it was starting to decay. And then there were his eyes, which had lost their color and become like milky cataracts set against dark, gaunt lids.

It vaguely reminded him of the alien beings he used to interact with when he traveled dimensions with Rick. But encountering a non-human was different than being on the verge of becoming one.

And that was the question of the night–figuring out what the hell was becoming of him. Earthly or not, he knew he wasn’t himself right now. He felt like crawling out of his skin, and yet he couldn’t tear himself away from looking at that terrible visage staring back at him. That was until he became distantly aware of his classmates standing next to him, pulling him down into a desk chair as two EMTs stormed into the dorm room.

“Good on you to call us, there were some overdoses on the first floor and it’s all hands on deck out there, you wouldn’t have gotten much help at the medical center.” One of them said.

A barrage of questions directed at Morty soon followed, but once he made eye contact with one of the EMTs the questions didn’t register.

For some terrible reason, he could only focus on how the EMT’s skin seemed to sing to him in a way that made his mouth water with a sickly hunger.

The urge grew worse as the man pulled Morty closer to take his pulse. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, but regardless, he fought the compulsion with everything he had.

”What the hell? EKG says you have no pulse.” The EMT said, which was followed by the man pressing his fingers on Morty’s wrist, which made the color drain from the man’s face as he said in a petrified voice: “How are you not dead?”

The other EMT, a woman, leaned over and they whispered to each other about something, and then she said, “Could you open your mouth for me for a second?” Which Morty did.

He felt her gently place two gloved fingers on his tongue as she waved a flashlight into his mouth. Somehow, the skin covered by purple rubber still managed to call to him. His eyes watered now as the need to consume grew uncontrollably.

When she asked him to open his mouth wider, that’s when he stopped holding back.

He grabbed her wrists with an unnatural force and pushed her down onto the carpeted floor and plunged his teeth into the side of her face and tore off as much flesh as he could fit into his mouth.

Every bite was thrilling and all-consuming, so much so that he couldn’t be bothered to care for the shrill wailing happening above him as his classmates hurried out of the room in terror.

He felt the other EMT attempt to pull him off the woman, but to no avail, as he would let nothing stop him.

After a few more satisfying mouthfuls, he could feel his senses return to him, and everything in him that still abided by reason told him to run.

He struggled against the surviving EMT, using his newfound strength to immobilize the man so he could get out of the room.

Out in the hallway now, a lone member of campus security had apparently been waiting for him to come out. Morty recognized him as the cop who was outside questioning freshmen, and he figured that he must be one of the only police who wasn’t attending to the overdoses downstairs. Morty was lucky again this time. He might get away from campus as easily as he came that night if only he could get past the man’s Glock.

Realizing that the elevators were behind the policeman, Morty darted out and did his best to steal past him. Which he nearly accomplished, had the policeman not fired into his chest.

The impact of the shot had Morty dropping to his knees, and he felt the man sprint up behind him and grab his ankle, but Morty turned his body swiftly and tore away some muscle from the man’s arm with his teeth, causing him to drop his weapon and cry in agony. Morty swiped the gun as it skidded across the linoleum floor, then he jumped back up and slipped into the elevator. Oddly, he felt no pain from the fresh gun wound.

He had no time to contemplate such a phenomenon, however, as the elevator doors soon slid back open, and he immediately started running for the building’s exit.

With the cop’s gun stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he started running. He ran until the cars and street lights blurring past on the tree-lined highways gradually became rows of houses wrapping around cul-de-sacs and narrow roads. Even then, he kept going past the point of breathlessness, until his pace dissipated into a half-jog and his chest was heaving from exertion. He snuck inside an alleyway in between a small, empty gas station and an abandoned laundromat, and sunk down to sit in the small space that divided both buildings.

He shoved a tired, shaking hand into his pocket and did the only thing he could think of doing after the kind of fucked up night he’s had.

He cursed quietly as the phone rang and rang, half hoping it wouldn’t get picked up on the other end.

On the fifth ring he heard, “Hey, Morty, did you butt-dial me? It’s three in the morning asshole.”

Morty didn’t answer at first, just hugged his knees tighter into his chest and trembled against the brick wall behind him.

“Alright, I’m hanging up, nice talk–”

“Hang on!” He pleaded. “I called because, um, uh, I–I think I turned into a zombie!” The words tumbled out of Morty before he could process them.

Zombie.

He wouldn’t allow himself to consider it before since he knew to become a zombie meant he couldn’t be helped. No one had ever cured a zombie before in real life, at least not that he knew of. He’d heard stories from other dimensions and none of them were reassuring.

“Huh. Okay, this is interesting. So you don’t call me for an entire year and now you’re telling me you’re a zombie. You know what, it could be a good bit, I think it has a lot of potential, honestly, but you picked the wrong fucking _UGGHPP_ time for it Morty, I was actually sleeping for once. Try again next year, alright?”

“Wh-What? Rick, no! Don’t hang up, please, this-this isn’t a bit! I actually need your help. Come on, I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency. I promise.”

There was silence on Rick's end for a moment, and Morty feared he may have hung up on him.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” He said eventually. “It’s not like I’m going back to sleep at this point anyway. So, if I come rescue your ass, what do I get o- _OOOUHH_ -ut of it?”

Morty sputtered in disbelief. “Uh–I don’t know! I’m pretty sure I’m dying Rick, and I don’t have time for this…”

Rick gave him a condescending hum on the other line and affected a sarcastic tone when he spoke. “You–You’ve got a point there, Morty. It’d be an inconvenience to replace you, even if we don’t go on adventures together anymore. They say keeping Mortys around is a good failsafe–“

“Who’s _they?_ ” Morty cut in.

But then Rick continued as if his grandson hadn’t spoken at all.

“And I’ve been hearing Mortys are in limited supply nowadays too, y’know? Anyway, you’ve made a pretty good case for yourself. I’m coming over there. Text me the address before I change my mind.” He said, and Morty begrudgingly did as he was told.

A familiar neon portal appeared in the air soon after that. Morty watched from the darkness of the alleyway as Rick stepped out. He looked the same as Morty had remembered him, lab coat and all.

“Morty?” Rick called. He was standing underneath the fluorescent light of the gas station’s steel canopy and evidently hadn’t noticed Morty in the cover of the alleyway.

An abrupt sense of shame struck Morty at the thought of having to showcase how monstrous he looked, even more so that he’d nearly eaten someone not even an hour beforehand.

But he reminded himself it would all be over soon with Rick’s help–so he sucked in a shaky breath and stepped out into the artificial glow.

When they faced each other, Morty noticed Rick’s body visibly tense for a brief moment at the sight of him, but he hastily righted himself.

“What so–so you ditched me to join the theater club. Did you call me because you need help with your reenactment of _Zombieland?_ ” Rick questioned as he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Morty.

Morty shook his head adamantly. “For the last time Rick, this isn’t a bit! I can prove it.” He stretched out his arm towards Rick. “F–Feel my pulse.” He said.

Rick regarded him skeptically, but reached for Morty’s wrist anyway, pressing it as the EMT had done earlier.

Still looking doubtful, he pulled out a small device from his coat pocket. When he pointed it at Morty, astonishment crossed his face and he stepped back.

“You really are dead, huh. W– _URPPP_ -Wait, is that…” He said, trailing off as he swiped his finger on Morty’s cheek. “Is that blood?” He asked, and then he scanned the residue with the device in his hand. “Did you attack someone?”

Morty nodded.

“Holy shit, you weren’t lying. You’re a motherfucking zombie Morty!” Rick exclaimed in both parts awe and excitement, gesturing in the air with his portal gun.

The teen rolled his eyes. “Y–Yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time Rick! N–N–Now can you help me or not?”

Rick cocked his head to the side pensively. “That depends Morty, do you know who did this to you?”

“No. I just–I was at the freshmen party, a–and I woke up buried in a forest near here. That’s all I remember.”

“So are you sure they weren’t some rogue Floovians?”

Morty shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Or Gromflomi- _EEEUUHH_ -tes? I heard a few of those assholes were s–still out there fucking around. Oh, no wait, actually there’s hybrid Gazorpazorps who have mutated cells, do you think–”

“Rick, I said I don’t know!” Morty yelled, and the sound of his voice reverberated through the empty gas station and shook the bushes that lined the parking lot, which struck him as bizarre since his voice wasn’t that powerful.

Something unusual was happening–he felt it before he saw it, a feeling he couldn’t comprehend but he acted upon it nevertheless. He pulled the gun out of his pocket and with his other arm he pushed himself and Rick back, making it so they were walking backwards toward the alleyway.

“The fuck M-Morty?” Rick said, startled at being shoved back. “Do you even know how to _URPPP_ use that?” He gestured at the Glock in Morty’s hand.

Just as Morty was about to respond, the sound of footsteps made him shift his attention. His eyes scanned around frantically, trying to locate the source of the noise, but it sounded like it was coming from all around them.

There were dark, silhouetted figures coming towards them, pacing slowly and awkwardly as if they were sleepwalking.

Morty thought back to a firearm safety video he saw in one of his classes–for whatever reason, he remembered it now as he pulled the safety back and clumsily aimed into the darkness.

“What the hell’s going on Morty? What did you drag me into?” Rick said above the mechanical sound of him readying his own weapons.

“ _Me?_ ” Morty said defensively.

And then the figures came into the light of the gas station. They were zombies–dozens of them in much worse shape than Morty was. They were mumbling, growling, and drooling black sludge from their haggard faces. There were bits of torn flesh hanging off of them, and their eyes weren’t milky white like Morty’s. They were instead a dark, stained mustard color, dreadful against their moss tinted skin.

One of them let out a guttural snarl that seemed to snap them all into action, and they lunged at Rick and Morty all at once.

Morty landed a few hits against the zombies with his handgun, but it was Rick, with his powerful cybernetic enhancements, who inflicted the most damage.

However, it looked like no matter how potent his lasers were, the zombies charged forward until they were completely obliterated and another cluster of zombies would come and replace them.

They were able to get closer with each new round of zombies until they were near enough to reach for Rick’s lab coat, but when they touched him they activated the nanofiber defense mesh under his skin and were instantly blasted into the air as a result.

“Morty! Run!” Rick shouted, and then they both sprinted towards the highway, using the blast as a means to escape.

When they were far enough away, Rick reached inside his coat pocket but frowned when he found it was empty.

“M–Morty, where’s my portal gun?” He asked.

Morty shook his head. “Um, I–I don’t know Rick. I didn’t see you with it when we were shooting the zombies.”

“But I had it, I-I fucking got here with it Morty.” He said as he paced around, thinking. After a second he stopped and grabbed Morty’s shoulders angrily.

“Don’t fucking tell me that when you pulled out that–that stupid gun of yours like some fucking hero, that you pushed me back hard enough to make my portal gun fall out of my hand, you little son of a bitch!” Rick growled.

“W-W-Wait that can’t–that couldn’t, I–I–”

“We’re going back there and getting it! I don’t care how many more zombies we have to kill.” Rick said, pulling Morty by his arm as they walked back to the gas station.

As they approached it they could see the place was empty again, and on the spot where Rick had been standing, a small ball of neon light crackled faintly.

There were pieces of melted plastic everywhere, while green portal fluid was smeared across the asphalt ground, mixing with the rainwater pouring down. Nothing was salvageable.

Morty watched Rick clench and unclench his fists at his sides, slowly and repeatedly. “Morty, call the house.” He instructed in a low voice.

Morty called the house phone, then he called Beth, Summer, and Jerry individually but none of them answered.

“Um, N-No one picked up.” Morty said apprehensively.

“You know what that means, r–right M- _OOOUHH_ -orty?” Rick asked, clasping a hand on Morty’s shoulder, a sly smirk formed on his lips that felt out of place with the anger he’d just exhibited. “It means we’re going on a road trip, asshole. I’m taking you home!”

“Wh–What?” Morty asked, not believing what he’d just heard.

“Rick and Morty road trip 2019 bitch! Out on the highway, just you and me. We’re back at it babyyyy!” Rick yelled, fist-pumping the air.

Morty groaned in frustration.

He swore to himself that he'd die before getting in a car with Rick again after their whole driving lesson debacle all those years ago.

And now, ironically, he was doing both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait everyone. 
> 
> Aside from life stuff getting in the way, it also took a while to finally decide what the follow up to previous story would be. In the end a zombie road trip with Morty in college sounded pretty fun, so here it is!
> 
> Hope you guys like it so far. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Two Years Ago**

The neutrino bomb blew up way too close to Rick’s head.

If he’d been even a hair closer to the bomb’s blast radius, it would've pulverized him into dust.

“Hey! Morty!” He yelled, trudging through the slime-coated ground of Venzenulon 4 over to Morty, who was standing by the remains of Rick’s latest enemy. “Why the–why didn’t you warn me about the bomb you little shit? I almost died back there!”

Morty crossed his arms over his chest in indignation and glared at Rick.

“Uh, I don’t know Rick, maybe because I was too busy fixing the peace treaty b-between Venzenulon 3 and Venzenulon 4 that you fucked up while you were drunk last week!”

“Yeah, _UGHHPPP_ sure Morty. I saw you doing that while I was killing Glipzorp over here, but there was a window of time where–where they didn’t need you to mediate. You had plenty of chances to tell me, so answer the question, why didn’t you?”

Morty shook with anger; every word Rick said was like gasoline stoking a raging fire. “Because I don’t give a shit anymore Rick!” He blurted out.

“Ohoh, really now? Well, I’m gonna make you give a shit!” Rick shouted back, grabbing a fistful of Morty's shirt and pulling him in so they were eye to eye.

Morty shoved Rick in retaliation, causing him to stumble backward.“Y–Y–You’re not going to make me do anything, you prick! I’m turning seventeen soon, and I’m gonna–I’m gonna go off to college and get the fuck away from you!”

Rick let out a mocking chuckle. “How are you getting into coll- _EERRP_ -college if you can barely graduate from high school, genius?”

A pang of hurt rushed through Morty, but he pushed it down. “F-Fuck you! Just take me home already.” He demanded.

“We’re not done yet, asshole.”

“I–I don’t care! Open the portal you bastard!”

Morty was inching towards Rick with white-knuckled fists now, and the sight made Rick groan in annoyance.

“Goddamnit Morty, I’m not–I don’t have time to pick a fight with you.” Rick groused. He then held his portal gun up in the air and opened a portal between them. “If you wanna fuck off, then fuck off.” He said, pointing at the portal and walking away from Morty.

They didn’t speak for days after that.

One night, Rick was refilling his flask in the kitchen when he noticed Morty at the dining table. There was a broad stack of papers splayed out in front of him. Beth walked in from the living room and stood next to him, wineglass in hand.

“Hey Morty, what’s all this?” She asked, gesturing at the paperwork.

“College applications.” He muttered with a tired sigh.

Rick watched Beth’s smile falter slightly as she tightened her grip around her wineglass. He knew she was holding back surprise. “Oh, really? Have you been getting your grades up, Morty?”

“No Mom, but the counselor said if I get good test scores I c–could increase my chances.”

“Right. Well, let me know if you need any help sometime, okay Morty?”

“O–Okay mom,” Morty said. Beth stepped away from him and entered the kitchen and mouthed a silent “What the hell?” to Rick.

All Rick could do was shrug.

He saw Morty in the dining room a few more times after that, appearing committed to the futile cause of getting into college.

Morty mentioned nothing during their adventures, and Rick never asked. Though, he had little chance to ask since their adventures were becoming scarce.

It would come as a great surprise then, when a few months later Morty came home from school one evening, grinning and waving a college acceptance letter.

The Smith family, save for Rick, offered their shocked congratulations at the dinner table. It took a moment for everyone to process that Morty had achieved the impossible.

“Did Rick help you?” Summer asked after the excitement simmered down.

“No, Summer. I would never volunteer myself to something as pointless as getting Morty into college,” Rick said, answering Summer’s question before Morty could respond, then he stood up from the dinner table. “Congrats on furthering y-your medio- _OOUGH_ -crity Morty. Hope you like being part of the herd.” He said, and the room was reduced to an awkward silence as he left for the garage.

Shortly after getting to his workbench, his phone rang.

“Hey C-137, did your Morty get the acceptance letter yet?” The voice on the other line asked.

“Sure _UGGHPP_ did. What do I owe you?”

“Ah, give me 10 pounds of Isotope-322 and we’ll be good.”

“Deal.”

“Always a pleasure doing business with you C-137. And hey, uh, before you hang up, I was thinking: you’re the first Rick to ask me for a copy of my Morty’s academic record. I didn’t think there was another Morty in the multi-verse that wanted to go to college. Who would’ve fu- _UGGHH_ -cking thought it would be your Morty C-137? I mean, you guys are legendary, I never thought your Morty would–”

“Yeah yeah, I’m not fucking sweating it. He won’t last longer than a day,” Rick interjected. “I’ll get Isotope-322 to you in an hour.”

Then he hung up, stuffed his phone back into his pocket and fired up his portal gun.

**Present Day**

Against Morty’s protests, Rick announced they were going back to Morty’s college to steal a car for their spontaneous road trip.

It turned out Morty hadn’t run far since it only took them about half an hour of walking until they came across the campus’ main parking deck.

As he walked, Morty felt the blood from the bullet wound spread across his chest. It reminded him of the bone sticking out of his leg, and every other injury that he was numb to now that he didn’t feel pain.

He wanted to tell Rick they needed to do something about it before he became a walking infection, but Rick wasn’t paying attention to him. He was focused on spotting their potential target among the rows of cars lining the parking ramps.

“Get a little closer behind me, Morty, I think I just saw our ticket out of here,” Rick whispered.

Said ticket was a man standing beside a Prius, nervously fumbling a set of car keys in his hands. There was an attractive female student next to him who was leaning against the passenger door of the car.

“Hey, asshole, hand over the keys,” Rick demanded as they approached; the mechanical sound of his laser gun coming to life echoed throughout the deck.

The pair jerked their heads towards him and then cowered when they noticed the gun aimed at them. “Who–Who the hell are you?” the man asked.

“Someone who’s go- _OOOUH_ -nna blow your fucking arm off if you don’t hand over your keys.” Rick threatened.

The man quickly reached around his back into the waistband of his pants and pulled out his own gun and pointed it at Rick. “I’d recommend you not do that,” the man warned, attempting to sound confident despite the tremor in his voice.

Rick rolled his eyes. “Well, if we’re here making _recommendations_ , I’d recommend making your students study instead of giving a pass to the ones who’ll suck your dick for an A.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The man said.

“Christ, I really _EEEECH_ –I really– _EEEEEEECH_ really don’t have time for this,” Rick said. He fired the laser into the man’s arm causing him to drop to the ground. The student standing beside him shrieked and leaped back.

Rick scooped up the professor’s car keys and gun. “Hey, you, give me his ID badge.” He said to the student as the professor whimpered on the ground.

She nodded shakily, pulling a lanyard from the man’s neck and tossing it to Rick. She then pushed the professor’s body out of the Prius' way so they could leave. 

Rick took over driving, and they’d spent only thirty seconds going through campus when he stopped the car in front of what Morty immediately recognized as the chemistry building.

“What are we doing here R-Rick?” He asked.

“Isn’t it obvious Morty? I’m impro- _OOOUGH_ -vising. Wait in the car, I’ll be right back,” he said.

Morty watched him stroll up to a student standing near the building’s walkway. He was too distracted by his phone to notice Rick come up to him.

“Woahoh! No wonder you sounded fucked up on the phone. Lemme have a _UURPP_ look!” Rick said. When the student looked up Rick wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. The guy opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came, as Rick subtly moved his arms up to squeeze his hands around the student’s neck.

The man’s jaw went slack–his windpipes undoubtedly being crushed by Rick’s grip.

When Rick let go after a few long seconds, the man slouched forward, coughing and gingerly clutching at his neck. Rick grabbed his arm and led him towards two policemen who were blocking the building's entrance.

“I n-need to get in there,” Rick said, holding up the ID badge they took from the professor back in the parking garage. “I’m an adjunct for Professor Brown–this student forgot his EpiPen in the evening lab and is suffering a severe allergic reaction.”

One of the policemen looked them up and down warily. “Sorry, can’t let you in. The whole campus just went on lockdown. Try the medical center.”

Right as the policeman finished speaking the student let out a series of wet, ragged coughs that made him stumble forward. He grabbed at his neck again and heaved loudly.

The two policemen looked at each other then and appeared to come to an agreement.

“Look, we’ll make an exception for you two, but I’ll have to escort you.” The policeman said.

Rick thanked him profusely as the trio disappeared inside the building, leaving the other policeman at the door.

One of the second-floor classrooms lit up, and Morty watched Rick grab all the lab equipment from the window with one arm. His impromptu plan clicked right then, and Morty wondered how well they would fare against a zombie apocalypse with only regular lab equipment, but he figured it was better than a broken portal gun and a garage that was miles away.

After a few minutes, they came back through the entrance with armfuls of lab equipment.

“Uh, George, the adjunct said Professor Brown needs the lab equipment in case this outbreak thing gets out of hand. We’re gonna help him get it to his car.” The policeman said to his colleague as they made their way towards the Prius.

“Wait, what about the kid’s EpiPen? What’s going on?” The policeman by the door questioned.

“We got it! Everything’s fine George,” his colleague assured cheerily.

When Rick came close to the car, Morty noticed his mechanical eye train a laser on the policeman and the student’s backs.

They helped Rick pile the lab equipment into the trunk of the car, their stiff movements and blank expressions concealing their panic.

When they finished the policeman returned to his post, and the student staggered off in disoriented shock, fresh bruises across his neck.

Without a word, Rick climbed into the driver’s seat and they drove off, finally making their way out of the university.

Morty looked back at the academic buildings that had been a part of his life for the past year. They disappeared into the distant darkness as they sped down the highway. He knew he’d never be able to go back after what just happened.

It gave him a sense of unease–losing everything he’d worked so hard for over a single night. It was overwhelming to think about, and too soon to let it sink in–he needed a distraction, anything to get his mind to stop running, so he turned on the car radio.

As he absently listened to the radio’s indistinct chatter, he thought about his last road trip–the only one he’d ever been on until now. He played with his DS in the backseat for half of it. He was so distracted he had no idea where they were until they pulled over to a small beach on the side of a winding stretch of mountainous road. Beth told him they were on the Pacific Coast Highway and that he had to come out and see it. He still remembered the way the crisp breeze gave him goosebumps, and how the sound of waves crashing against the coastline relaxed him. Now and again, when he was feeling sentimental he’d think about that bright spot from his childhood.

But that was nearly ten years ago, and there he was now, on another road trip guaranteed to be the opposite of his nostalgic memories.

He thought to himself that he wished they were going on a real road trip, and apparently he’d said it out loud because Rick glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, and Morty felt pressured to explain himself.

“L-Like I wish we could go places, like um, the Rocky Mountains, or–or the Grand Canyon, you know? I’ve really been wanting to see the Grand Canyon, actually.”

“The Grand Canyon is boring Morty,” Rick responded in his patently condescending tone.

“How could you call one of the seven wonders of the world boring?” Morty argued.

“Because, unlike you Morty, I’m not caught up i-in a planetary mindset. A fucking giant eroded river is nothing compared to the shit we’ve seen in the multi-verse.”

“Well, I’ve never been, s-s-so I wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not missing out Morty, I pro- _OOOUH_ -mise.”

Rick’s dismissal annoyed him, even though they were technically on a time crunch, he still longed for some kind of reprieve from whatever traumatizing adventure was in store for them.

But amid thinking up a rebuttal to Rick’s comment, he wound up dozing off, head resting against the car window as he blinked from exhaustion. He fought to stay awake so he’d have the last word, but he fell asleep despite himself.

He woke up the next day with a painful crick in his neck and his right cheek plastered to the window. Somehow, he felt worse than when he woke up the night before–his clothes were crusted with dried blood and he was past due for a shower.

He was about to ask Rick if they could find a place to clean up, but as he glanced around, he realized he was alone inside the car.

They were parked on the edge of a narrow road lined with tall rows of bushes that blocked Morty’s view of his surroundings.

When he climbed out of the car, the sun’s heat beat down on him and he was met with a dry, forceful wind. It was the last place he wanted to be, and he questioned why they were there–wherever ‘there’ was.

He walked past the bushes to see Rick sitting at the edge of a rocky cliff.

In front of him was an enormous winding ravine made up of colorful, towering stone walls that seemed never-ending. A strong gust of wind moved through patches of desert brush and deadwood that protruded haphazardly on the ravine’s rocky planes.

Morty guessed it had to be the Grand Canyon. It wasn’t surprising that Rick would take him there, even though he’d adamantly refused to the night before. He’d do anything to be right, and Morty should know better than to expect anything else.

He wanted to enjoy it regardless, but he was miserable from the night before and fighting off that sour feeling proved difficult.

He walked over to Rick, who turned around at the sound of rocks crunching underneath his footsteps.

“Oh, great, you’re awake. Get a load of this dried-up river Morty!” He exclaimed sarcastically, gesturing with his flask towards the Canyon.

“Did you seriously bring me here just to prove a point? We should be trying to get back home, n-not taking stupid detours!” Morty said.

Rick shrugged. “Not much of a detour, really. You’d know that too if you’d bother to learn basic geography M-Morty. And yeah, judging by the look on your face, I’d say my point’s proven.” He raised his arms in the air in celebration. “Worth it!”

Morty scoffed defensively. “Y-Y-You know what Rick, I think this place is kind of awesome. I mean look at all those natural rock formations, a-and that river way down at the bottom, and it all just goes on forever y’know? It’s–It’s cool!”

Rick grinned at him smugly. “Uhuh, sure Morty. Real _cool_ ,” he said as he got up from the ground. “Anyway, I’m ready to leave whenever you are. But–really–take your time, fucking je- _EEEOU_ -rk off to it if you have to.”

And then Morty was by himself again, Rick’s voice echoing through his mind.

He sighed and looked towards the Canyon as if staring intently at it would change things. The sun's unrelenting brightness made him somewhat delirious after a while, but he stayed, determined to cement the landmark into his memory. 

Dust was blowing into his eyes, and when he blinked it away, he thought he saw something moving in his periphery.

When he blinked again, the canyon transformed into a forest of massive tree houses with pathways covered in glowing crystals and varieties of vegetation Morty had never seen. Rick was guiding him through it all from inside the ship, listing all the dimension’s highlights like a self-appointed tour guide.

_‘If you like this Morty then you’ll shit your pants when we go to the next one!’_

Then they were in a dimension with gargantuan mountains sporting equally gargantuan faces, and at the center of the planet was a mountain that was so tall it reached into outer space.

_‘Grab onto something Morty! We’re going all the way to the top of that thing!’_

Morty grabbed onto Rick’s arm and the ship shot straight up, the force of it gluing him to the seat, and when they finally reached the peak Rick stopped the ship and they took a breath.

Morty let his head slump against Rick’s shoulder, heart pounding in his chest as the scientist whooped and hollered, and he couldn’t help but cheer along with him.

 _‘Ready for round two, Morty?’_ Rick shouted, and then they glided over the peak and soared down the mountain in near free-fall; Morty’s stomach dropped like he was on a rollercoaster.

 _‘Ready for round two, Morty?’_ He heard Rick say again, except they were inside the garage this time and Rick was bending him over the workbench. There was still the gut-punch of adrenaline from before, but instead of falling, he was coming into Rick’s hand and panting _‘yeah, shit, okay Rick, but this is the last time. I’m dead serious. This has to be the last fucking–’_

Then the Canyon came back into view, with its wide, cavernous planes and its empty depths, and he realized he felt nothing at all when he saw it again.

Reluctantly, he walked back to the car to face Rick, who continued trying to get a rise out of him. Morty’s best defense was to play along; act like it didn’t bother him anymore. He’d usually make a few self-deprecating jokes until Rick got bored and changed the subject, which is exactly what happened.

The ensuing silence was a relief, as it meant Morty didn’t have to talk to Rick unless it was necessary. He’d kept quiet, even when they stopped to get snacks and supplies, and even when Rick dragged him to a pawn shop next door to steal some guns for added self-defense.

They didn’t stop again until they reached Nevada at sunset. Rick took them to an outdated, near-empty motel that sported a sun-bleached banner draped over the side of the building. It read: ' _Less than 10 minutes from Vegas!’_

When they got to the check-in counter, they found a woman slumped over the desk. Her face was smashed against a computer keyboard and soaked with fresh blood.

“Guess we’re staying here for free Mo- _OOOUR_ -ty!” Rick said, reaching over the counter to grab a random set of room keys from the metal hooks on the wall.

“Uh, geez Rick, I–I don’t think this is a good idea. Shouldn’t we find a place with less–y’know– _murdered_ people?” Morty said, figuring now was a good time to break his short vow of silence against Rick.

“Free is free Morty,” Rick said, grabbing his arm and guiding him back towards the parking lot. “Now let’s go get our shit.”

Morty obliged reluctantly, bringing armfuls of their stuff up the Motel’s rickety stairwell. They made it past a few doors until Rick stopped in front of a room at the end of the walkway.

The first thing he noticed when they entered was the single bed. He’d considered saying something about it, but he decided his time was better spent getting his much-needed shower rather than arguing with Rick.

Unfortunately, cleaning up didn’t help his appearance. The grime blended with his graying skin, and no matter how much he scrubbed he still looked rough.

If they were traveling dimensions like they used to, Rick would’ve already injected him with some mysterious potion that would instantly cure him. Instead, when he stepped out of the shower Rick was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a needle and nylon thread. He’d said it was for his leg, the one with the exposed bone, and Morty was thankful that he no longer experienced pain. If he wasn’t getting any of Rick’s potions, at least he didn’t have to suffer through doing things the hard way.

Morty laid next to him, and Rick threaded the needle through his skin carefully, as if he too came to understand the gravity of being without his inventions.

Morty had a difficult time reconciling Rick’s usual disregard of him with the level of attentiveness he was displaying. Without the ability to leverage pain as a distraction, he opted to turn on the room’s small, antiquated television.

The news was playing, and he recognized his dorm building behind a reporter who spoke authoritatively towards the camera:

_‘A private college outside Albuquerque, New Mexico became the center of national attention yesterday when a deadly virus broke out within the student population and spread across the country overnight._

_Symptoms are described as ‘zombie like,’ and its effects on the body are instant. Cannibalism, brain damage, and acute necrosis are only some of the disturbing effects of the virus._

_With public outcry growing amidst a massive death toll, the President is expected to declare a national emergency by tomorrow afternoon. Authorities say they are actively investigating–’_

Then the TV screen shut off–Rick had swiped the remote control from Morty without the teen noticing.

“H-Hey! Why’d you turn it off?” Morty asked.

“Too UURRPP distracting,” Rick muttered as finished the last stitch in Morty’s leg.

“Don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

“Yes and no, Morty. Whatever the hell this virus is, it’s spreading too quickly for us to stop it. There’s only so much I can do without my portal gun or the garage. We’re gonna have to find another dimension as soon as I can find more portal fluid, which makes caring about anything that happens to this dimension u-useless.” Rick said, motioning to Morty to pull his shirt up so he could work on the bullet wound.

“So then why are we here and not trying to get back h-home to the garage?”

“Tha- _AAUH_ -t’s another thing. I-I think this whole–whatever’s going on, it’s a setup Morty. Computer said the killbots activated right after you called me last night. Plus, the cameras I set up around the house are conveniently not working, and–and no one in the family is picking up their fucking phones.” Right then, Rick pulled out a particularly large bullet fragment from Morty’s wound. Morty watched with morbid curiosity as the metal glinted in the lamplight. “We need to stay here Morty.” Rick continued. “I need to test your DNA, see what I’m dealing with. I-I have a feeling getting out of this dimension won’t be easy. We gotta–We have to be prepared.”

Rick then pointed at the lab equipment at the foot of the bed–a welter of glass and metal objects strewn on the moldy, tan carpet.

“That might give us some answers, even though it's basic as shit. Would’ve helped if you’d gone to a university with a r-real fucking science program, but it’s something. Could even help me find a cure for you before we get the hell out of this dimension.”

“A-And maybe explain why it feels like I’m the only infected person out there who hasn’t fucking lost their shit, right?” Morty added as Rick tied off the final stitch in his chest.

“Uh, yeah. That too.” Rick said, looking back over towards the stolen lab equipment. He rubbed his eyes and got up, the mattress creaking as he moved.

Now that he'd finished with Morty, he shifted his attention to tinkering with the pile of scientific instruments.

Morty watched him absently, chin resting in his hand. Eventually, he too rose from the bed to join Rick on the floor. He had an abstract understanding of how the instruments functioned after taking his first real lab class at the university, and from having observed Rick for so long.

The scientist hadn’t noticed him, too absorbed with assembling the makeshift lab to look up. Rick's hand moved towards a buret, and Morty handed it to him before Rick could grab it himself.

Rick’s eyes darted up at Morty. He hesitated, holding the buret in the air while he held Morty’s gaze. Then, without a word, he screwed the buret to the metal stand in front of him and carried on.

They worked like that for a while, and Morty occasionally tried his hand at putting parts together with Rick's help. There were a few rare moments where they shared a few lingering glances, or their hands would brush, but neither acknowledged it.

There came a stretch of time where Rick no longer needed Morty’s help, and the teen bent his head back against the foot of the bed and watched him work, waiting for the next set of instructions.

Minutes passed, and he’d let his eyes drift closed and his breathing slow in the interim.

Eventually, he heard a rustling sound next to him, and he subtly opened his eyes just enough to catch Rick removing his lab coat and place it over his shoulders, evidently not aware that he was still awake.

Morty felt strange then–a kind of cautious contentment that ultimately got muddled with sleep.

The next day, the morning sun filled the room with warm, golden light, and Morty’s eyes squinted open to find Rick’s lab coat was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Back at it again. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Next chapter will be in Rick's POV, so that should be fun. 
> 
> And as always, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's POV.

**A Few Months Ago**

He found the Morty in a dark room somewhere deep in the halls of the Citadel’s Presidential Wing. He wasn’t the usual yellow-shirted, stuttering teen he was used to. This one spoke clearly and articulately, slicked his hair back and wore dress clothes.

It didn’t impress Rick though. In those days, all Mortys looked alike to him, and they all infuriated the hell out of him just the same.

He’d been burning through Mortys faster than he could down a bottle of whiskey, and they’d been ruining his trips to the multiverse. It was like he couldn’t find another Morty to just do what he asked for once.

So, when the opportunity presented himself to get rid of one of those shits, he took it gladly.

It was satisfying the see this Morty’s nice dress clothes soaked with blood.

At least it was until it was actually time for Rick to kill him.

It’d been going well–he’d found the Morty in his bedroom, got a few hits in, and had him cornered at the edge of his bed.

“It’s over, Morty 349-S.” Rick had said, aiming a hefty laser gun at the teen as he towered over him, getting ready to finally get his shot.

The Morty’s eyes flickered up to him in the near darkness. He coughed wetly from the blood trickling out of his broken nose down into his open mouth.

“It’s ‘President’ Morty to you, Rick C-137.” The Morty rasped.

“President my ass,” Rick said, his voice nearly drowned out by the sound of the handheld plasma cannon being activated. Lights on the weapon came on, glowing red and illuminating the Morty’s face like a spotlight, revealing a smug smile on his face.

Rick was annoyed by that–the teen should fear for his life, not be smiling. He aimed the end of the canon inches from the Morty’s face, assuming it would take him down a notch, but the Morty simply laughed in response.

“Overkill much?” Rick said, tightening his grip on the trigger. “I wouldn’t be the one laughing if I was on the business end of a plasma cannon.”

“I’m not afraid to die Rick C-137.” The Morty said, wiping streaks of crimson from his lips. “There’s an infinite amount of Mortys out there, many of whom harbor the need for revenge. The next president could be your Morty.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. My Mo- _OOUGH_ -rty’s not a vindictive, power-hungry psychopath.”

“Maybe not yet, but a Morty who resents his own Rick will eventually turn on him. When he realizes he can kill one Rick, he’ll kill more, and that’s all it takes.”

“Suuure, of course. Because my Morty going through a rough patch definitely means he’s going to become a homicidal psychopath and campaign for President.” Rick said, now pressing the cannon gun onto the Morty’s forehead. He glanced down and realized the disposable energy cartridge in his gun was empty and needed to be replaced. “Hang on, fuck, gotta reload. If you wanna get any other dumb shit off your chest while I do this, now’s your chance.”

A sinister chuckle bubbled up in the Morty’s throat again, and Rick ignored it.

“You should know that I’ve been keeping track of you, C-137. I’ve seen how much your Morty’s resentment affects you. You must be desperately clinging to the idea that he’ll come crawling back to you, that things will return to the way they were. I assure you, he will no–”

“Finally, it’s fucking loaded,” Rick interjected.

Right then, a bright orange light enveloped the room, followed by an immense explosion. The ground next to the Morty burst into tall flames, rapidly engulfing the Morty’s palatial bedroom in fire.

“You missed.” The Morty said, a mix of awe and bewilderment in his voice. His cool demeanor faltered for a moment.

“Yeah, I changed my mind about the whole killing you instantly thing. Burning you alive though, now that’s where it’s at!” Rick exclaimed, pulling out a pair of powerful magnetic handcuffs. He secured them onto the Morty’s wrists and bound him to one of the bedroom’s decorative floor-to-ceiling columns.

“See you in he- _EEEOU_ -ell, asswipe!” Rick said as he watched the flames crawl towards the Morty’s legs, and then he walked away without turning back.

Later that night, the Citadel celebrated his feat. He allowed himself to revel in the spotlight for a while, but he wasn’t in the mood to smile and shake hands and crack jokes at the Citadel’s expense. As soon as he got the chance, he snuck off to his ship and left.

Taking out the President of the Citadel seemed to him an appropriate end to the months he’d spent exhaustively searching for a new Morty. It also managed to rid him of the reckless anger he’d built up, but in its stead came an emptiness that was hard to shake, as he’d have to fully face being alone in his adventures for once.

Weeks passed without incident when he returned home. Though on occasion, something strange would happen in the wee hours of the night when he was nearing blackout drunk. The sound of whirring and humming from his lab would morph into short snaps and pops. Then, before he could even react, the noise turned into a roaring rush, and billowing flames appeared in his periphery. It tended to dissipate when he passed out from drinking, only for the flames to return later on unannounced, and the whole thing would play in his mind all over again, and again, and again...

**Present Day**

Rick fell asleep after long hours of tinkering with his lab equipment.

When he woke up the next day, his face was pressed down against a smattering of dark, unidentifiable carpet stains that he pointedly ignored as he got up off the floor.

Morty was in the same position he was the night before, with his head jutted back against the edge of the bed and Rick’s lab coat covering him like a blanket.

As Rick bent down beside Morty to take back his coat, there was a loud crash outside the door. He quickly shrugged on his lab coat and went to investigate.

A shrill screech resounded throughout the motel grounds followed by low growls. He rushed over to the walkway's railing to see the parking lot filled with zombies, some of which were doused in flames. Underneath all the commotion was the sound of glass breaking against asphalt, the cause of which was a young woman throwing chemical-filled bottles at the zombies surrounding her.

It didn't look like the homemade bombs were effective, however, and Rick debated with himself about intervening, until he noticed a zombie approaching the stairs to the second floor. He had no choice but to get involved then.

He activated the cybernetic laser in his right arm and shot at the crowds of zombies, killing them most of them in a matter of seconds.

When it was over, the young woman looked up at Rick, squinting against the morning sun. She brushed the sweat from her forehead, then wiped her hand on her oil-stained jean shorts. She made as if she was about to say something, but she paused–something behind Rick caught her attention.

“Morty?” She asked, sounding confused.

Rick whipped around–Morty was indeed standing behind him, appearing tired and disheveled.

“Um, hey Rick, what’s going on out here?” Morty asked–evidently not having heard his name being called out.

“Do you know that girl down there?” Rick asked, gesturing towards the parking lot.

Morty perked up, and he came around from behind Rick and leaned over the balcony.

“Skyler!” He exclaimed.

Rick figured she must be from his university since he’d never met her, and she and Morty looked about the same age.

“Hey!” She replied as she made her way up the stairs towards Morty.

She stood in front of him and looked him up and down, analyzing his appearance.

“Holy shit, Morty, look at you! You’re infected, how are you not trying to chase me and eat my brains or something right now?” She asked.

“Uh, well, I-I think it’s because…” Morty glanced over at Rick expectantly, hoping he would complete the sentence for him by offering his usual scientific explanation for everything. Instead, Rick crossed his arms and glowered at him. “Well, we’re still trying to figure it out. I g-guess for now I’m just lucky to be alive.” Morty said, punctuating the end of his sentence with a short, nervous laugh.

“Oh yeah, you're super lucky. Anyone who gets infected usually ends up dying.” The young woman (Rick had already forgotten her name) said, her brows knit together in exaggerated worry.

Her eyes moved between Rick and Morty, as if trying to decide what to say next. Then, as if having a sudden revelation, she let out a self-deprecating sound and thrust a hand out to Rick. “I just realized I haven’t introduced myself! I’m Skyler. I go to school with Morty.” When Rick failed to uncross his arms to shake her hand, she awkwardly moved it back and placed it over her hip.

“Alright, looks like you guys have a lot to catch up on. I’m going back to the lab, _UGHPPP_ , I mean room.” Rick said dismissively. “If you need me just, uh, y’know…” He gestured vaguely as he turned away.

Skyler scoffed. “You weren’t kidding when you said he was an asshole.”

“Y-Yeah, and don’t expect him to warm up to you,” Morty replied.

And that was the last thing Rick heard before the motel room door closed behind him. He sighted the lab equipment sitting on the floor and went to examine the results of a test that compared blood samples from Morty and a regular zombie.

Morty’s test showed the presence of alien antibodies, something that he’d expected to see. He’d vaccinated himself and Morty against a slew of alien diseases during the first few months of Morty’s freshman year. The idea for the vaccination came following their final adventure before Morty left for college. At some point in the adventure, Morty was turned into a rare type of hybrid space serpent after accidentally making contact with some of its bodily fluids. The thing about that particular type of serpent species is that its flesh turns inside out in an agonizing and slow ritual during its species’ mating season. As fate would have it, it was mating season when Morty came in contact with the serpents, as much as Rick had warned him adamantly to steer clear of them.

That encounter was the last straw for Morty, as he refused to go on another adventure and spent weeks without speaking to Rick.

Rick didn’t fully understand how deeply their misadventure had affected Morty until one random night when Rick had gotten up to piss and happened to catch a glimpse of Morty standing in the Smith’s second-floor bathroom. The door was ajar enough for Rick to see part of his reflection, and Rick made sure to stand clear of the stripe of light emitting from the door gap so as not to be caught.

Morty was staring at himself in the mirror, raking the blunt edge of his nails down his face, then down his arms in frenzied, trembling movements, as if his own skin was foreign to him. His hands came back up to his face, and he’d begin to scratch vigorously at a spot on his cheek, like a junkie tweaking on meth. Rick could only stand a few more seconds of Morty clawing at himself until he had to look away.

If Rick wanted Morty at his side again someday, he couldn’t allow the chance of something like their encounter with space serpent hybrids to happen ever again. Granted, Morty had suffered a lot throughout their adventures because of him, but back then Morty never dwelled much on Rick’s manipulations, and he was often powerless against them anyway. Now, since Morty was independent, he couldn’t leverage his authority like he used to.

So, he set to work in the garage and developed a vaccine that caused immunity to 88% of all known alien viruses and diseases. It also prevented species mutation, such as the kind Morty experienced.

The day Rick finished developing the vaccine, he waited until it was past midnight to open a portal to Morty’s dorm room, making sure that his roommate wasn’t in the room when he arrived. In one swift motion, he gave Morty the vaccine and left as quickly as he’d entered.

Morty never found out, and it was Rick’s intention to make it stay that way, as the teen made it explicitly clear to Rick he didn’t want the scientist anywhere near him at that point. While Rick historically wasn’t one to care about Morty’s demands, he was playing a different game now, one that required the illusion of respect and boundaries to regain Morty’s trust.

And as much as Rick claimed otherwise, he knew that Morty wasn’t a total idiot. If he even hinted at the existence of an alien vaccine, there was a decent chance Morty would connect the dots and realize what Rick did and when, and they’d be back at square one.

Although now, hiding the existence of the vaccine proved difficult, considering the vaccine’s antibodies were reacting to the extraterrestrial virus. Rick saw the vaccine as proof of Morty still being half-human, as well as being the reason Rick didn’t see him as much of a threat since he himself was also vaccinated.

Rick would make up some story to explain away Morty’s sentience, he decided. Or, he’d claim he was still trying to figure it out–he’d choose whichever answer felt right in the moment.

With that settled, Rick moved on to inspecting what was under the microscope. The only way he could see the virus was through a special dye he’d stolen from Morty’s university lab, and the dye only showed the virus’s basic outline. Unfortunately, its shapes provided no clues to help identify the alien virus. His vaccine provided immunity for a myriad of things, and he also had to account for the viruses it didn't protect against. There were simply too many possibilities to make an educated guess.

The other tests that followed revealed nothing he hadn’t already learned from observation: the virus was transferable via body fluids (with being bitten as the most common type of exposure) and that regular people couldn’t produce antibodies strong or fast enough to stand a chance against it.

Ultimately, there was no point in analyzing unusable data. He’d have to start over; find another angle. But for now, he needed a break, so he stopped his testing and wandered down to the row of snack machines lining the side of the check-in office. As he analyzed the bags of junk food stuffed behind the glass, he heard what sounded like Morty and his friend talking quietly on the other the far side of the building.

Usually, he couldn’t be bothered to care about what Morty talked about with his friends, but he today he was just bored enough to listen in.

Morty’s friend, whatever her name was (he forgot again) was saying in a low voice, “I have an extra room at my parent’s place in San Diego. If we leave now we’ll get there by sundown.”

“But what about Rick? I-I can’t just leave him out here.” Morty replied, in the same hushed tone.

“I’m sure he can take care of himself.”

“B-But–It’s just that… He’s trying to help me right now.”

Morty’s friend chuckled.

“Really? Because I can pretty much guarantee he doesn’t give a shit about you Morty. I mean, what about all those insane stories you told everyone about him? That doesn’t sound like someone who has your best interest at all.”

There was a pause. Morty let out a long sigh.

Rick left before he could hear Morty’s reply. And he didn’t end up getting anything from the snack machine.

He went back to the motel room and laid on the stiff mattress and stared at the discolored floral wallpaper peeling off the wall behind the TV set as he pondered what to do next.

His eyes drifted down to his lab equipment, then back to the wall. Suddenly, the idea of dissecting Morty’s body fluids under a microscope no longer seemed appealing. Instead, he found himself thinking about the conversation between Morty and his friend.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized it annoyed him more so than anything else. Morty had to see that he needed Rick to cure him and help him escape this dimension. The fact that he was willing to sacrifice that just to prove a point was fucking idiotic, and he needed to come up with a plan to get Morty to realize that himself.

Said plan came in the form of Morty coming back to the room with his friend to announce he was hungry.

Rick initially offered to help Morty look for his meal so he wouldn’t risk getting caught, and then while they were (alone) doing that, his friend could go out and get more supplies. He ended up insisting on the idea, but Morty was strongly opposed, saying he wanted to get out of the motel instead, and they could all get food and supplies together.

Rick caved, switching to a plan that now involved driving them around until Morty picked somewhere to stop and eat, then find a way to ditch his friend in the process. Rick had also convinced Morty to help him pack up their guns and some lab equipment under the guise of preventing their stuff from potentially getting robbed. And while that reasoning was sound, he also just wanted the ability to make a quick getaway.

After Morty’s friend smeared some makeup over his face and gave him some sunglasses and a baseball cap to hide his face, they all climbed in the car, and Rick’s plan went into motion.

Morty’s friend claimed to have a list she found through her phone’s fledgling internet service citing the places that still remained open after the zombie crisis went into full swing. They went through the list and tried to find something that worked for all of them, going from place to place without much success.

One of their last resorts was an old shopping mall that in passing looked like it could’ve almost been abandoned. Its concrete facade was a pale shade of tan broken up by streaks of grime accumulated through lack of maintenance, and the parking lot was in a similar state of dilapidation, though made less evident by the rows of cars currently occupying it.

There was no time to try and find a way to sneak in or find somewhere else to go, as being in the proximity of so many other people was beginning to weaken Morty’s restraint. They had to walk right through the front doors and face the people waiting for them there, which meant Rick would have to improvise.

At the entrance, they were met by a group of volunteers sitting behind a fold-out table. There were clipboards and pens lying in front of them. Rick walked up slowly, pretending to lean on Morty so he could act out what he called his best ‘frail elderly man’ impression.

There were a few people loitering along the walls behind the volunteers, but none of them paid any attention to the trio.

A woman at the table with a sweat-stained visor looked up. She was resting her head on her right palm, and she stifled a yawn before she began speaking.

“ID and immunization records.” She said in a flat voice.

“Our records were supposed to be transferred here,” Rick said. “–Ma’am.” He added quickly.

“Alright then, give me your names.” She replied, reaching under the table to a crate stuffed with paperwork.

Rick cleared his throat, letting out a short wheeze for added effect, then rattled out some fake names. The woman leafed through a pile of manilla folders for what felt like ages.

“Huh.” She said after a while of leafing through stacks of papers. “Looks like you three’s records aren’t here yet. Why don’t you try coming back tomorrow?”

“But, ma’am, they sent the records here t-two days ago.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at Rick. “They who?”

“The–The stadium.”

The woman’s head snapped up from her palm.“You guys came from the stadium?” She asked, her entire demeanor perking up at Rick’s words. She elbowed the man sitting next to her. “Hey, Jim, these people are coming from the stadium.”

“No shit! The stories coming out of that place are just…” Jim shook his head and winced. “I thought the CDC shut them down yesterday morning. Guess there’s still people trying to get out of there… Jesus, what a shitshow.”

“They said their paperwork is supposed to have come in already, but it’s not here yet. What do you think, should we let them in?” The woman asked him.

The man studied the trio for a moment then shrugged. “Eh, why not. They’re not showing any signs of the virus, and if they end up having it, we can get em’ out fast with all that damn security we’re supposed to be getting tonight. Think we could give them a day or two for their paperwork to come in.” The woman nodded, seeming to agree with him.

“Alright, well, you all can come in for the day then. Sorry about your paperwork.” She said with a sympathetic smile, then she started gathering up paperwork and placing it back in the crate.

“Thank you so much, ma’am,” Rick said feigning earnestness. “Sir.” He added, nodding at Jim, who returned the nod.

Rick put his arm back around Morty’s shoulder as they made their way inside. He glanced behind him twice to make sure no one at the table was looking back at them, and straightened out.

“Alright, listen up you little pieces of sh- _URPP_ -shit.” Rick announced as they walked by a line of people waiting in front of a makeshift clinic. “I’m giving us 30 minutes to eat and go back to the motel.” Then he lowered his voice and said: “We have–we need to make it quick so no one remembers us when we leave, got it?”

Mory and his friend nod in acknowledgment, the pair distracted by what they saw as they made their way deeper into the mall. To their right was a JC Penny, which held rows of sleeping cots covered in mylar blankets, and to their left were groups loitering amidst small piles of trash that was strewn throughout the mall’s retro tile floors. Farther down, there were people pressed against steel shutters barricading empty stores, and a little beyond them was a food court that was turned into a food bank.

He decided this was his opportunity to get Morty alone.

“Hey, you, Morty’s friend.” He said as he led them to the food court entrance. “You need to stay here and get us whatever supplies or food you can find. I have a plan so Morty can eat without getting caught. We’ll meet you back here in, uh, say 15 minutes.”

Morty’s friend opened her mouth to say something, but Rick grabbed Morty and rushed them away from the food court before she could manage to get any words out.

They got a few steps in when Morty stopped, forcibly preventing them from continuing on.

“Rick, I think you should stay behind with Skyler. I-I don’t need you to chaperone me… I did–I’ve done this before.”

“Look Morty, I’m not here to watch you cannibalize a soccer mo- _OOUGH_ -m. I actually need to talk to you. Alone.” Rick muttered.

“About what?” Morty asked.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Rick said as he led them into the JC Penny they passed by earlier. They walked through line after line of cots and kept going until they reached some restrooms at the end of the store.

A pale blonde haired girl who looked to be a few years younger than Morty walked past them towards the women's restrooms.

As she walked, she happened to drop her phone on the ground, and the duo watched it slide down the linoleum floor.

She cursed under her breath and bent over to recover her phone, not appearing to have noticed Rick and Morty standing behind her.

Rick watched Morty hone in on her, and he could see the teen was far gone enough not to bother stopping himself from shamelessly staring at her.

Morty licked his lips and swallowed thickly. When he turned to Rick, his pupils grew into thin outlines.

“Rick, c-can we t-talk later? Just-I gotta-” Morty stammered, lumbering off to go after the young woman.

Thankfully, there wasn’t a line to any of the bathrooms, so no one but Rick saw Morty put a hand over the girl’s mouth and shove her into the private family restroom.

Rick went to go wait outside the door.

It seemed Morty might’ve had the wherewithal to keep himself quiet, or perhaps eating another human being wasn’t quite as loud and dramatic as one would expect. Whichever it was, Rick was relieved he didn’t have to work very hard to conceal what was going on behind the bathroom door.

He was grateful for anything that was easy at this point, as he was starting to realize that having to cater to Morty in a crowded shelter was threatening to become a major inconvenience.

Case in point: they had 15 minutes left in their 30-minute excursion, and Morty didn’t sound like he was even halfway done.

Absently, he wondered why he couldn’t have just eaten his classmate when he started feeling hungry back at the motel. He was sure their friendship wouldn’t matter in the face of uncontrollable hunger.

But Morty held back his hunger around her, somehow.

Which didn’t make any fucking sense considering the severity of zombie hunger.

It bothered him. How could Morty not get hungry around her, of all people?

The best explanation he could think of was–

Without warning, the door opened slightly behind Rick, nudging him forward and breaking his train of thought.

“Rick, um, y-y-you can come in now.” Morty whispered behind him.

Rick pulled the door open a few more inches and slipped inside the room.

The stench of blood and guts assaulted his senses all at once. He stepped back so he was leaning against the wall, as if being a few inches farther away from the carnage made any difference.

“So, _UGHHPP_ w-what’s the deal with your friend?” Rick asked, watching the blood of Morty’s victim trickle into the grout in between the bathroom tiles, fracturing into geometric lines across the floor.

When he glanced back over to Morty, the teen had gone from standing to sitting in the corner of the room that faced the children’s urinal.

He drew his knees into his chest and wiped some of the blood from his mouth, then turned to give Rick a look of surprise. “What do you mean what’s her deal?”

Morty probably wasn’t expecting this line of questioning right off the bat, Rick figured, but as usual, Morty underestimated how little regard he had for most people and things. The dead teenager that was lying between them nearly decapitated was just that. He didn’t need to know more.

“What I mean is, how the hell did this so called friend of yours get from New Mexico aaaall the way to the exact motel we’re staying at in bum fuck Nevada? Doesn’t that raise any red flags for you, Morty?”

Morty raked a blood-stained hand through his hair and frowned.

“Are you jealous that I’m spending more time with her?” Morty asked.

Rick let out a short laugh. “Seriously Morty? Do I look like a desperate, hormonal teenager to you? That’s the stupidest fucking thing you could’ve possibly said just now.”

“S-So then what’s your problem with her?”

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, and let out a frustrated sigh.

“We really don’t have time for this…” he muttered as he walked over to Morty.

“Okay. I’ll tell you what my problem is with her, but first I need y-you show me where you were bitten the night of the party. I think I just figured something out...” Rick said as he crouched in front of Morty.

Morty’s scowl turned into a confused stare, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just show me.” Rick said, looking Morty up and down, inspecting for the bite mark.

“My skin’s started peeling off in places, I don’t think we could find it even if we tried Rick,” Morty said, looking uncomfortable under Rick’s gaze.

“But do you remember seeing it when you woke up in the forest? You were only out there for a few hours Morty, your skin couldn’t have torn off then. Especially since you’re still half-human.”

Morty shook his head. “I-I don’t know Rick. Sorry.”

Rick was about to reply when he noticed part of Morty’s shirt riding up on his waist.

“Goddamnit…” He groused, reaching for Morty’s shirt and yanking it up.

“There it fucking is!” Rick exclaimed, pointing at a tiny pinprick of a scab on Morty’s hip with a slight ring-shaped bruise surrounding it that had to be at most several days old.

Morty glimpsed down to see what Rick was talking about.

“That’s not a bite mark Rick, that looks like a…” His voice trailed off as he came to the realization. “Aw geez, how the hell didn’t I notice someone sticking me with a needle that night!”

“Morty, your friend is gonna call you any minute now. I need to ask you something else now.”

“What?” Morty asked.

“When you were getting hungry earlier why didn’t you just eat your friend? Why did you make me come all the way to an overcrowded shelter and make up some elaborate lie about lost paperwork? And–And–And the people here Morty, they don’t know how to defend themselves. They rely on the go- _OOUH_ -vernment to protect them, I’m losing brain cells the more time we waste here when we could’ve just stayed at the motel–”

“I didn’t eat her because she’s my friend!” Morty interjected, making a half-hearted attempt at a loud whisper.

“Bullshit Morty. You’d eat fucking Jerry if he happened to be standing in your way instead of that blonde girl just now.” Rick gestured to said girl’s body as he spoke.

Morty narrowed his eyes at Rick. “Wait—is she like me? Is she like half-zombie or something? Is that why I haven’t eaten you either? Are–are you immune to zombies Rick?”

“Uh, not exactly Morty.” Rick paused, he had to choose his next words carefully. “It has something to do with our exposure to the multiverse.”

Rick figured that should be a vague but still satisfying answer for Morty.

“So does that mean that Skyler’s been through the multiverse?”

“Not been. She’s from somewhere in multiverse that’s clearly not earth Morty.”

“Then why would she be at my college?”

“I think whoever’s responsible for this was trying to lure me away from my lab by giving you an alien virus. I think they wanted me to find you dead out there in the woods that night.”

Before Morty could respond, his phone began vibrating in his pocket. He was about to fish out his phone when he looked back up at Rick.

“I–I think I need more proof Rick. If Skyler isn’t who she says she is, I need to see it for myself.”

“I can definitely prove it to you Morty.” Rick said, giving Morty’s shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. Then he stood up.

Morty nodded, pulling his phone out.

“Hey, we’re at JC Penny, um–if you go all the way to the back we’re in the family restroom… Uhuh, yeah… Okay, cool, b-bye.”

Morty hung up and let out a long breath.

“I’m a little nervous about this Rick.” The teen muttered.

“Don’t be.” Rick said, extending a hand out to Morty to help pull him up off the ground.

They didn’t have to wait long until there was a soft knock on the door, and Morty opened the door quickly and pulled Skyler inside.

Rick then pinned her against the wall next to the door twisted an arm behind her back to immobilize her.

She looked over her shoulder and gasped as soon as she saw the dead girl, her free hand balling up into a trembling fist at her side. It took a moment for her to fully realize what Rick was doing to her.

“What the hell are you doing? What’s going on?” She yelled.

Rick put his free hand around her jaw, digging his fingernails into the sides of her mouth. “Keep your fucking voice down.” He said tersely, releasing his hand after he was satisfied she got the message.

“Who do you work for?” He questioned.

“What? Morty, what the hell happened while I was gone?” Skyler questioned as she struggled against Rick to break free.

“Alright, watch this Morty, here’s your proof right here…” Rick said, and he took Skyler’s twisted arm, jerked hard in the opposite direction so her limb snapped at the elbow. Rick put a palm over her mouth to suppress her agonized wail.

He then took his hand away from her mouth and got out a switchblade from his coat pocket and sliced a section of her broken arm. Instead of muscle and bone, severed wires wrapped around fractured metal rods sprung out from under her skin.

Morty’s jaw fell open. “H-H-Holy shit…” He murmured.

“You want more proof Morty?” Rick asked rhetorically, digging his fingers into her left eye and wrenching out the eyeball from her face. He smashing it in his hand, and when uncurled his fist there were the broken remains of a hidden laser and camera combo resting in his palm. He threw them down onto the tile, bits of metal landing on the dead body.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Skylar cried, trying to push herself away from Rick once more.

“Let me guess. Some revived version of the Galactic Federation sent you here?”

She didn’t answer Rick, rather, she stared at Morty, eyes wild and pleading.

“Come on Morty, you can’t let him keep hurting me like this. I’m still your friend, we can leave together like we planned. You’ve grown so much without him, you don’t need him anymore, please, just listen to me–”

Rick cut her off by grabbing the back of her head and slamming her face against the wall, causing her to lose consciousness. Morty helped him catch her before she fell onto the ground.

Rick then lifted her by her sides and set her down beside the sink, propping her up against the wall.

“Okay Morty, Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to clean yourself up, and the- _EEUHH_ -n you’re gonna go to the car and wait for me. You’ll need this to disable the traps I set up underneath the car.” Rick tossed a pair of car keys and a small device over to Morty. “I’m going to stay behind and get rid of whatever weapons your little Federation friend has on her while she’s out. We only have a few minutes before she wakes up, so you have to hurry.”

Morty nodded and dashed over to the sink to wipe the rest of the blood from his mouth. When he was done he smeared some of Skyler’s concealer on his face, then hurried out the door.

By the time the agent woke up, Rick was able to pull out a few guns, lasers, and bombs from her augmented limbs. He made sure to dismantle everything he got his hands on, so as not to risk them being used against him.

As soon as she opened her eyes, Rick pulled her up so she could stand. She tried yanking away from him but he held her firmly.

“Listen to me you Federation piece of shit, when we leave here, I swear if you even try to flinch in the wrong direction I–I’ll end you.”

“Fuck you.” She spat.

Rick ignored her recalcitrance, deciding instead to focus his attention on getting them out of the bathroom as inconspicuously as possible.

When they out into the hall there was a woman waiting with a toddler standing next to her.

“You might want to wait a while before you go in. My granddaughter over here had a gnarly accident. There’s some shit you reeeeally don’t wanna see back there. Literally.” Rick said, and Skyler rolled her eyes at him. The woman was too off-put by Rick’s comment to notice Skyler’s gesture of indignation and she promptly moved on.

“What about the dead girl you guys left back there?” Skyler whispered once they were out of earshot.

Rick shrugged. “What about her?” Rick replied, nonchalant. He went over to one of the empty cots and took a mylar blanket, using one hand to put it over Skyler’s shoulders to hide her severed arm.

She scoffed, and then silence fell between them. Neither brought up the girl again.

As they were leaving the department store they passed a group of people sitting around a small TV playing the news. He pulled Skylar over to them so they could watch.

The newscast showed a picture of Morty’s dorm building in the corner of the screen.

_’–CDC now believes patient zero was a student at the college living in the Wexler dorm building, the site of the tragic murder of a campus policeman just a few nights ago. The FBI is conducting a nationwide search to locate students living in the dorm at the time of the outbreak. Here with us to talk about this new development in what is now considered the worst viral epidemic in US history is CDC spokesperson Jaime Goldman. Jaime, thanks for joining us this afternoon…’_

Rick, deciding he’d heard enough, led Skyler away from the TV, and they continued on through the mall.

“Which one of y-y-you assholes gave Morty the virus? Was it you?” Rick asked, pulling her close to him as they went to avoid being overheard.

“It doesn’t matter who did it.”

“Don’t fuck around with me, answer the question.”

“No.”

Rick twisted her mangled arm under the blanket, causing her to wince and grit her teeth in pain. A few people they passed gave them lingering glances, making Rick speed up their pace towards the exit.

“Things will get ten times worse for you if you don’t start answering me.” Rick growled, bending her arm around harder than before as they crossed the automatic doors to the outside. She stifled an anguished whimper but didn’t move to stop him.

“Do–agh–Do your worst Sanchez.” Her voice strained with every excruciating twist. “The Federation’s been tracking me; they know I’ve been compromised. I’m going to die either way, it’s just a matter of who kills me first.”

“Yeah, it’s r-r-really not the dying part you should be thinking abo- _OOUHH_ -ut right now,” Rick warned.

When they got to the Prius, Morty was waiting for them in the driver’s seat.

Rick eyed the trunk and considered taking a gun with him to the backseat, but everything was happening too fast to stop for even a moment it seemed. Instead, he went for the next best thing–the laser in his cybernetic arm, which he trained at Skyler’s temple when they sat down.

Now, in the privacy of the car, Rick could finally question her without holding back his weapons.

But Rick had barely gotten started when Skyler interrupted him and said:

“Listen, there’s not a lot I can tell you.” Her eyes met Morty’s in the rearview mirror. “Morty I’m sorry for what you’re about to hear. I really did end up liking you.” Then she turned back to Rick. “So all of Morty’s roommates and some students in his classes were covert Federation agents. We’ve been watching him for the entire year leading up to the outbreak. Everything up to this point has been a coordinated effort to sabotage you, Rick C-137. And not just you, but every Rick in every earth dimension the Federation can get its hands on, and just so you know, Ricks became infinitely easier to find after the Citadel of Ricks disbanded. So thank you for that, by the way.” She gave Rick a condescending smile. “Anyway, like I said before, that’s all you’ll get from me.”

Rick saw Morty’s hand tightened around the steering wheel until his arms trembled.

“My friends were Galactic Federation agents?” He said slowly as if the words didn’t feel right in his mouth.

Meanwhile, Rick seethed in the back seat. He was always prepared, always dodged every threat that was leveled at him. He’d never been caught this underprepared until now.

It had to be the year of his fallout with Morty, in that small window of vulnerability that they’d get one over him.

In an act of uninhibited rage, Rick moved the gun to Skyler’s non-cybernetic arm and fired the laser. Blood rushed out, staining the car seat; she screamed like the life had been ripped out of her, but the sound of her anguish wouldn’t satisfy him.

He was preparing to take another shot when he heard a quick staccato of beeps coming from the gun, signaling all of his weaponized implants had run out of charge.

Panic struck him for a brief moment. Fortunately, he quickly ended up realizing the Federation agent was too wrapped up in her own suffering to notice Rick was suddenly unarmed. He took that as an opportunity to keep the laser gun pointed at her and distract her with empty threats to prevent her from coming to the realization herself.

Fortunately though, it didn’t take too long to reach the motel’s parking lot. As soon as Morty parked, Rick jostled the door lock and elbowed the passenger door open, dragging Skyler along with him.

He went around to the driver’s side and said, “Morty, get a few guns from the trunk, I’ll meet you up there.”

And then he was bounding up the stairs and rushing down the walkway towards their room, but he stopped just before they got to the door.

He kicked Skyler’s legs out from under her, and she stumbled to the ground with a sharp groan. Rick pulled a pair of magnetic handcuffs from his lab coat and hooked one side around her ankle; the other one he secured to one of the rods on the walkway’s railing.

He then went inside the motel room. Just as he was about the close the door behind him, Morty came rushing in. He paused in front of Rick, trying to catch his breath and doubling over with his hands gripping his knees.

“Morty, help me out here, we have to figure out what we’re going to do with her.” Rick said, beginning to pace around the room, too preoccupied to question why Morty looked like he’d just run a marathon. “I-I-I guess we could just torture her for more information, but that might take a while. We could kill her, but we’d be wasting valuable information. Goddamnit Morty, why did I leave my truth ray in the garage?”

Morty shot a worried glance towards the door. “Uh, I dunno R-Rick. There’s actually something else you–”

Rick walked over to where Morty was standing. “What do you mean you don’t know?” He grabbed Morty’s shirt collar out of frustration and pulled him closer so they were face to face. “You haven’t even–you’re–you’re useless to me right now Morty!”

Morty’s eyes darted back to the door, then at Rick. “Uh, well…” Morty said, trying to think. “I–I think we should take a chance and torture her. If we kill her we’ll never know what w-we could’ve gotten out of her. I–I guess.”

“Good point Morty. That’s what we’ll do. We just have to think of a way to torture her quickly.”

“G-Great Rick, but uh, I r-really need to tell you something.”

Rick let go of Morty’s collar. “What Morty?”

Right then, Skyler shrieked on the other side of the door.

“Help! There’s zombies!” She screamed. “Get me out here!”

Rick could hear metal clanking against metal–it was the sound of her frenzied attempts to break free.

Rick walked to the door and locked it.

“Quick, Morty, hand me a gun.”

“Yeah, um, about that…” Morty mumbled, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck anxiously.

Rick’s eyes widened with realization. “You fucking little piece of–are you telling me you didn’t bring shit up here?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you when I came in! The zombies were practically r-right behind me. I wouldn’t have cared but some of them had guns Rick, and they were pointing them at me, I-I didn’t have time to open the trunk! Aren’t you supposed to be half cyborg anyway? You could just turn your arm into a laser like you did in the car.”

Rick dragged a hand down his face, letting out a disgruntled groan.

“I ran out of charge.”

Morty’s face paled. “Shit… Wh-What are we supposed to do now Rick?”

“Give me a second to think Morty. Just–Just find something to block the door while I figure this out, okay?”

Morty promptly went over the dresser and hauled it across the carpet over to the door, while Rick sat on the bed to think. Outside, Skyler was still screaming and crying for help. It sounded like she was somehow fending off some of the zombies too.

As Rick was thinking up a solution to their problem, he realized it'd been a while since he had anything to drink–since yesterday, in fact–which is practically ages in his world. And now was a good time as any to have one, since it tended to help when he had to problem solve.

He grabbed his flask out of his pocket and quickly downed whatever mix of vodka was left in it.

Sure enough, the alcohol gave him the push he needed, and he was able to improvise a plan.

“Morty get over here. I thought of something.”

Morty walked over to him, a look of nervous anticipation on his face.

“You need to give me the bite,” Rick said.

Morty’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No!”

“This is the only way Morty, I’ve thought it through already.”

“B-But there has to be–”

“There isn’t! I can explain why later, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“O-Okay, if you say so Rick.” Morty sighed, reluctantly stepping closer to Rick. “So, uh, how do you want me to do it?”

“Doesn’t matter, just do it fast so we can get it over with.”

The teen eyed Rick’s wrist, put it up to his mouth, seeming to hesitate. Then he looked at Rick’s neck.

“L–Lay down.” He instructed, and Rick did so, pushing himself back so that his legs weren’t hanging over the edge of the bed.

Morty climbed on top of him, straddling him awkwardly, and leaned down.

“O-Okay, here goes.” He said, opening his mouth against Rick’s neck.

On the other side of the door, Skyler’s calls for help had stopped, replaced by the sound of banging against the door interspersed with the occasional groan.

“Just fucking do it already.”

Morty inhaled sharply, and in the next second, Rick felt the acute pain of his teeth digging into his skin. Rick hissed and dug his fingers into the bedspread to stop himself from the instinctual urge to push Morty off of him.

He didn’t know exactly when, but somewhere along the line, everything went dark.

An unknown amount of time passed. Couldn’t have been very long, in retrospect, but it’s hard to tell when a person’s unconscious.

He heard Morty’s voice. It sounded distant, but he could make out some of what he was saying.

He was shaking him and yelling things like, “wake up Rick!” and, “you can’t go out like this, I fucking need you!”

Morty must’ve thought he’d died, which was kind of funny to him. The kid was so overdramatic.

He halfheartedly thought about keeping his eyes closed to hear what other melodramatic shit Morty would say next, but there wasn’t time for that, so he opened eyes, and that seemed to shut Morty up.

He beamed at Rick. “Holy shit! You’re alive!” Morty exclaimed, his face was hovering close to his. Morty angled down so his blood-soaked lips were mere inches from Rick’s own, and then his expression suddenly changed, and he jerked his face away as if he’d just realized what he was about to do.

“So I–I think it worked,” Morty said awkwardly as he climbed off the bed.

“Of course it worked. And by the way, people do- _OOUUH_ -n’t die from just the bite you retard. You’d know that if you watched any cable television.” Rick said as he got up.

There was a fist-sized hole a couple of inches above the doorknob now, and a few small places where the wood had caved in. The zombies were still at it, apparently.

Rick walked up to the door, Morty trailing behind him, and pushed the dresser out of the way. He was about to unlock the door when he noticed Morty staring at the ground, hands fidgeting at his sides. Rick turned to face him fully.

“Fuck it,” Morty whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

Abruptly, he pushed Rick against the door and did something he’d never done before.

He kissed him.

It was quick, and a little rough–his teeth knocking against Rick’s at first.

It was kind of strange too, considering they were the same height now, and Rick couldn’t use the height difference as leverage anymore.

Regardless, he relished the moment for the few seconds that it lasted, kissing back with as much enthusiasm as Morty.

It was hard to believe that in all the times he’d fucked Morty, they’d never kissed.

Maybe that was the reason Morty ended up hating him. Or maybe it was just one out of thousands of reasons.

Morty was smiling when he pulled away; that was also new.

It had to be the first time the teen had smiled since they’d reunited, and the thought made Rick smile a little too despite himself.

“Ready to kick some ass, Morty?”

“Fuck yeah Rick!”

And with that, Rick unlocked the door, and they walked out into the hoard of zombies on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry this took so long. I've been going through some writer's block lately, so this one was pretty difficult to write. So thanks to everyone who's still reading and let me know what you think!


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